


Mother's Day

by likeadeuce



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Mother's Day, Tony got a photo opportunity, and an ambush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

Tony intended to have a long talk with Miriam Sharpe, before the cameras started rolling. But there was a crisis in Madripoor, and then a repeat of the thing in Bucharest, and by the time he got to the studio, they dragged him straight into makeup.

"I don't need makeup," Tony growled.

"That's what Nixon said in 'sixty," the production assistant shot back, and Tony made an executive decision to sit down and behave himself.

And so, when he walked toward the set and saw Miriam, he barely had time to take her by both hands and kiss each cheek – a pseudo-continental gesture he had cultivated for years, then given up when someone (maybe Clint?) snarked that it came off as "kind of pansy." But it felt right, this morning, and when he said, "I'm very glad to see you, Miriam. It's been too long," he meant every word of it.

She pulled back and gave him an intent look that he wished he could read better. "It wouldn't have been so long if your office would return calls."

He winced. "I'm sorry. The last few weeks – you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Then, realizing he had managed to make this conversation all about himself, he said, "Today must be a difficult day for you. I'm afraid the symbolism is a little heavy handed, but the press office thought --"

"I am still a mother, Director Stark," she answered. "I had breakfast this morning with my husband and children. And then I came here, because I can see them every day, but today I can be here, speaking on behalf of Damien and people like him."

"Thank you, Miriam. You don't know how much we appreciate your cooperation."

"We," Miriam repeated, with that same enigmatic look. "Here I thought there was only one of you."

Tony opened his mouth to explain what he meant, except that he wasn't sure what he meant, and then the PA's came to guide them to their chairs, and he forgot about it. Later, he would wonder if that was where he screwed up, something as small as a single word. Once a man started talking in terms of "we" and "you," it wasn't much of a leap to "us" and "them." And when people started choosing sides, it was far too easy to wind up on the wrong end of a pronoun.

*

Tony's media-relations people called this show "Softball." The host, Evan Michaels, had been a minor functionary several Presidential administrations ago. Then, as now, he had seemed to thrive on being thoroughly nondescript. Even the most boring guest could shine in contrast to Michaels' blandness. It wasn't the highest-rated show in an average week, but it flourished on the strength of its guest-list. An exclusive with Michaels pretty much guaranteed a cake walk through talking points, with minimal risk of encountering an uncomfortable question.

Michaels smiled at the camera. It was what he did best. "We have as our guest, once again, Anthony Stark, Director of SHIELD and member of the Mighty Avengers. Appropriately on this Mother's Day Sunday, Director Stark is joined by Miriam Sharpe, the Stamford, Connecticut mother whose tireless efforts have been crucial in swinging public opinion in favor of the Super Human Registration Act. Now as I recall, Mrs. Sharpe, the two of you did not meet under the most auspicious of circumstances."

Tony winced inwardly. The downside to Michaels' questions being softballs was that they were frequently idiotic.

Miriam turned her gaze on the host and blinked once. "We met at my son's memorial service. I spit in Mr. Stark's face."

"Ah, yes," said Michaels. "Famously. I don't suppose at that moment you imagined that, such a short time later, the two of you would be sharing this stage."

"To be very honest, Mr. Michaels, the possibility of future photo opportunities was the furthest thing from my mind. In fact -- I would not have agreed to participate in today's circus. . –" She looked at Tony now; he knew he couldn't interrupt her without becoming the bad guy, but he tried to plead with his eyes. Don't do this, Miriam; we can talk about this, Miriam. She continued. ". . .if it were possible to get the Director's attention when the cameras aren't on him."

"Miriam," said Tony, repeating her name the way a therapist or hostage negotiator would. "As you know, my position with SHIELD entails a good deal of responsibility, and it's possible communications have not been worked out to an optimum level. However, if you tell me what you want –"

"Want?" Miriam's fist slammed into the arm of her chair, sending feedback through the microphone, and rocking the unsteady furniture. "I want to believe that the Stamford families are a priority, not just someone for you to namedrop and exploit when your approval rating needs a boost. I want your organization to be responsive to our concerns at all times, not just when it suits your agenda."

"For instance --?" Tony asked, trying to keep things in control, cursing himself for walking into an ambush he couldn't win, for being stupid enough ever to underestimate this woman.

"For instance –" She turned to the camera and Tony realized she had him just where she wanted him. "I have been speaking with the parents of those poor boys in Texas. Five more victims of unregulated superhuman powers. And yet their names are being dragged through the mud. The government not only sits by but allows this judicial witch hunt to go on."

"Texas?" Tony honestly had no idea what five victims Miriam could be talking about.

Michaels managed to recover from his obvious shellshock – he clearly hadn't expected the outburst, either – to contribute, "I believe Mrs. Sharpe is referring to the Winslow case. Five college students tried for the kidnapping and sexual assault of a mutant girl –"

"Those are your victims?" Tony choked out. "A gang of thugs who –"

"Who were acquitted of all charges," Miriam answered.

Tony laughed out loud. "Oh yes. Acquitted. Thanks to a case of blatant jury nullification."

"I'm sorry, Director Stark," said Michaels. "Are you saying that a duly selected jury of these boys' peers made the wrong decision?"

"I'm saying that the state made about as tight a case as I've ever seen, and the defense brought on some well-paid 'experts' to tell the jury that this girl used telepathic influence to make these men attack her. And it worked, because the jury pool was made up of a bunch of illiterates who think the only good mutie is a dead mutie."

Miriam narrowed her eyes at him. "That's a fine way to talk about the people who have supported you."

"What people would those be?" Tony was ignoring the host now, his eyes trained on Miriam. "Did you know that the Friends of Humanity picked up the bill for Winslow's legal defense, and paid for those so-called experts? Think about who you want to get in bed with on this, Mrs. Sharpe."

Her lip curled. "That's a curious point, coming from you. It's interesting to see, looking back over the years – how many of your close friends are mutants. How closely you're working with X-Corporation and the X-men, even today. It's enough to make people wonder. Whose side are you on?"


End file.
